Full Circle
by LadyHeatherlly
Summary: History threatens to repeat itself on what should be the happiest day of Arthur's life. Can a terrible tragedy be prevented? Or is the young king doomed to revisit his father's dark legacy?
1. Part I: Guinevere

**Title:** Full Circle  
**Category:** Het (Canon AU)  
**Characters/Pairings:** Arthur/Gwen, Merlin  
**Rating/Warnings:** M (semi-graphic childbirth)  
**Summary:** History threatens to repeat itself on what should be the happiest day of Arthur's life. Can a terrible tragedy be prevented? Or is the young king doomed to revisit his father's dark legacy?

* * *

**- o - Part I: Guinevere - o -**

Soft morning sunlight spilled over the horizon, bathing the slumbering city of Camelot in gentle hues of pink and gold. A new day was dawning, at the very same moment that an unborn child began to stir in his mother's womb, preparing to meet a world that eagerly awaited his coming.

Queen Guinevere whimpered in her sleep, one hand sliding down to cradle her distended belly as the first contraction rippled through her body. She came fully awake when the second one hit a few minutes later, biting her lip to keep from crying aloud as she carefully shifted into a sitting position and stared down at the man beside her.

Arthur lay sprawled out on his stomach, lost in the throes of deep, peaceful slumber. Gwen sighed quietly, resisting the urge to wake him for some comforting reassurance. _No, let him sleep,_ she told herself firmly. _There's no need to wake him just yet._

She struggled to control her nervousness as she sat alone in the dimly lit chamber, trying not to think about how much pain she might have to endure before it would all be over. She'd been scared for weeks, although she never spoke a word about her fears to anyone else. _Childbirth is the most natural thing in the world, Gwen,_ she would remind herself sternly. _Women bear children every day._

_And many die in the attempt,_ an ominous voice would always whisper in response.

Gwen would try and reassure herself that she'd have the best care in Camelot when her time came. Then she'd remember that the midwife had commented on how young and healthy she was, promising that she shouldn't have any problems when it came time to deliver her child. None of it mattered. Her fears had persisted, and rose up to torment her more strongly than ever as she silently suffered through the beginnings of labor.

_What if I'm not strong enough to handle the pain? What if something goes wrong? What if the baby dies, or I do? Or worse, what if neither of us survives? Arthur will not be able to bear it. I can't let him down. I can't..._

Anxiety battered her mind with a force that knocked the breath out of her, just as her muscles began to spasm with another contraction. _Oh, it hurts,_ she thought helplessly as she gingerly eased back down onto her side and curled up with both arms wrapped around the rigid mound of her stomach. _Oh, this is already so much worse than I thought it would be._

She buried her face in a pillow and moaned low in her throat, trying to muffle the sound as tears began to seep from beneath the lids of her tightly closed eyes. _I can't bear it. Oh, I can't do this alone... _her mind whimpered, just before the terrible pressure released her from its grip again.

_Not yet,_ she reminded herself, feeling a little more rational as her body relaxed. _Remember what the midwife said. This is going to take hours. There's no reason to disturb anyone quite yet, and it isn't so bad, really. Let Arthur rest a while longer. He's going to need it._

Gwen tried to lie still, but every muscle in her body screamed with the need to move. As she rose awkwardly to her feet and walked slowly around the chamber, the motion began to ease the tension in her lower back somewhat. Then without warning, she cried aloud and doubled over in agony as a much stronger contraction ripped through her midsection, hitting her with the force of an earthquake compared with the previous tremors she'd felt.

When Arthur came awake at the sounds of her distress, he found her clinging desperately to the bedpost to keep from falling, tears spilling freely down her cheeks as she panted and sobbed out a succession of incoherent pleas.

She heard her name spoken several times, then felt herself being lifted by strong arms that lay her gently upon the bed. Beyond that, she wasn't aware of anything except the terrible pain that radiated outward from her belly, burning into her lower back and setting her legs to trembling so hard that she could feel her teeth chattering in her mouth. She heard herself give a ragged gasp as the pressure began to ease, and then it was gone.

"Arthur," she whispered shakily, as the room came back into focus and she saw her husband's unusually pale face hovering above her. "You're awake."

"Of course I am," he retorted impatiently, somehow managing to look angry, worried, tender and loving all at the same time. "When did it start, Guinevere? Why didn't you wake me up?"

She gave him a weak smile in response. "It only started at daybreak, Arthur. Otha said it would take hours before I was ready to be prepared for birth. What was the harm in allowing you to sleep for a few more minutes?"

_"Daybreak?!"_

Arthur gasped incredulously, but her cry was far louder as another contraction slammed through her body just then. As the pain waxed and waned with an agonizing slowness, she heard herself keening like a wounded animal, unable to stop herself and not caring enough to try. She gripped the nearest solid object to brace herself against the pain, not realizing it was Arthur's arm until the spasms receded and she opened her eyes to see rivulets of blood dripping from her fingers.

"I'm sorry," she panted breathlessly, as she gently touched the scratches she had inflicted. "I didn't mean to... I'm sorry."

Arthur only shook his head, reaching out with his other hand to tenderly stroke the sweat dampened curls back from her forehead. "Merlin has gone to fetch the midwife," he said softly. "Just try to rest while you can."

Gwen frowned in confusion. "But how does Merlin know?"

"He burst in here just a few minutes ago when he heard you crying out," Arthur explained with an exasperated look. "Didn't knock, as usual, but I suppose I'll let him get away with it under the circumstances."

"You'd let him get away with it under _any _circumstances," Gwen replied with a faint smile as she rested her head back against the pillows he had propped up behind her. "Admit it, Arthur, you... Ohhh!"

She heard the chamber door burst open through a haze of pain, followed by an older woman's voice that brusquely ordered Arthur to step aside. "Otha," she managed between heavy pants. "I-I would have t-told them not to send for you so s-soon if-if..." she trailed off, unable to continue.

The midwife ignored her, casting a furious look at Arthur instead. "How many hours has she been like this? Why wasn't I called for sooner?"

Gwen struggled to catch her breath, as the sharply painful contraction faded into a dull, persistent ache. "Only since sunrise. Please, it's not his fault. I wanted to give everyone a few extra minutes to sleep, that's all. You said..."

"Sunrise was more than seven hours ago," Otha said shortly as she bustled over to the bed and threw the covers aside. "You, boy!" she called, jabbing a fat finger in the direction of the chamber door where Merlin stood with a bewildered look upon his face. "Scissors, heated water, towels, you know what to retrieve. Get it, and quickly!"

As soon as Gwen's nightgown and underclothes were removed, she stared down in consternation at her naked body, taking in the sight of swollen breasts and cautiously running her hands over the impossibly huge, hard lump that had once been her stomach. Otha probed briefly between her thighs, then looked up with a nod of satisfaction.

"She's ready."

When the next contraction came upon her, Gwen opened her mouth and wailed, arching her back as her bare thighs fell apart of their own volition. And then she was pushing, guided by an instinct more powerful than anything she'd ever felt in her life. The agonizing pressure radiated downward in burning, aching waves, begging her muscles to bear down and follow it.

Gwen readily submitted to her body's commands, clinging to the voices of encouragement that surrounded her as she struggled again and again to push the child from her womb. She strained and pushed for what felt like hours, bearing down with every ounce of strength she had, with no result other than muscles that were swiftly beginning to weaken from the constant exertion.

"The baby won't come," she sobbed brokenly as she collapsed in exhaustion against the pillows. "It's not moving."

A hand reached out to tenderly run a cool, damp cloth over her forehead, dropping down to wipe the sheen of sweat from her neck, shoulders and breasts. She sighed gratefully, opening her eyes to stare at Arthur's face above her. He looked haggard, drawn and pale, with a thick dusting of unshaven whiskers covering his jaw. With worry filled eyes, he gazed down at her lovingly as he sought to bring her some small relief.

"It must be getting close now," he murmured softly, as Merlin moved around behind him lighting candles to greet the coming night. "I know you're tired, but you're going to need to keep pushing for a little longer. Just a few more minutes, Gwen. Please, for my sake."

Gwen wanted to tell him she had nothing left to give, but the desperate pleading in his eyes stopped her short. Summoning a last bit of energy, she raised up on her elbows and drew her feet up close to her body, grunting and sobbing in helpless frustration as she gave several forceful pushes to no avail. She fell back against the pillows, then tried to rise again, only to realize she no longer had the strength to do so.

_I'm going to die,_ she thought dully as she closed her eyes, too spent to even cry out against the agonizing pain that wracked her body anymore. _I can't do it. I can't._

"I don't understand," she heard Otha say, as if from a great distance. "She should have delivered hours ago, and yet the baby hasn't even _moved_. It doesn't make any sense."

"You're supposed to be the best midwife in the kingdom!" Arthur snapped, the fury in his voice not quite managing to mask the fear and uncertainty that lay just beneath the surface. "What do you want? Tell me, and I'll give it to you. Just deliver my queen safely, and half of all Camelot will be yours."

"This isn't about payment," Otha murmured much more softly, as if trying to make sure Gwen wouldn't overhear. "All of the gold and lands you might offer do not change the fact that she's bleeding heavily and grows weaker by the second. I wouldn't ask for a single copper to save her life if I knew what to do, but I don't. I'm sorry, sire."

"If she dies, you will be executed," Arthur spat coldly, and a chill of dread skittered down Gwen's spine. He sounded uncannily like his father when he spoke the words, a man who had been driven mad by grief, destroying countless lives to avenge his own wife who had died in childbirth.

_No, Arthur,_ she wanted to scold him. _You mustn't think that way. Please, whatever happens, do not use it as an excuse to inflict suffering upon others._

She opened her mouth to speak, but all that came out was a pitiful whimper as her body made one more feeble effort to deliver the baby that would not come. With a bewildered look upon her face, the midwife began to push on her rigid belly and probe between her legs again, as Gwen weakly protested against the painful invasion.

When Otha withdrew her hand, it was covered in blood. "I don't understand," she muttered to herself over and over as she frowned in consternation. "I don't understand."

And then, there was another voice, the sound of an old, familiar friend that brought Gwen comfort even in her agony. "Arthur?" Merlin questioned softly. "May I take a look?"

"Not now, Merlin," Arthur said shortly. "This is bad enough as it is, without you mucking it up further."

"Arthur, please," Merlin responded, his voice gentle and persuasive. "I know I'm not a midwife, but I trained under the Court Physician for many years, before he..." he trailed off for a moment, and Gwen knew he was remembering the dear old man who had passed away a few months before. "Well, anyway," he continued determinedly. "I may be able to help."

"Let him..." Gwen managed in a feeble whisper, finding it more and more difficult to focus on Arthur's grief stricken features. "Please."

Arthur consented with a curt nod, and then it was Merlin's face her bleary eyes saw hovering over her, a sweet, reassuring smile upon his lips. He didn't push on her belly, causing her further pain as the midwife had done. Instead, he laid his hands upon her so gently that she could barely even feel his touch.

"The baby is turned the wrong way," he announced, without a trace of doubt in his voice.

Otha sputtered in protest. "Boy, I've been a midwife for nearly three decades! If that were true, I would know it. I've examined the queen repeatedly, and it isn't..."

"There isn't time to argue," Merlin interrupted in an urgent tone. "If we want to save her life, we're going to have to turn the baby. There's no other choice."

Gwen didn't know whether Arthur took Merlin's side because he trusted his judgment, or if it were only due to the fact that Merlin was offering some small hope where Otha was not. She lay limp and helpless, fading in and out of consciousness as the midwife reached between her trembling thighs and...

A tormented scream tore from her throat as the older woman thrust a hand inside her womb and probed around. Again and again she cried out in agony, blinded by white hot pain as her body fought to escape the terrible invasion. Strong arms held her firmly in place, and still she struggled, resisting with a desperate strength she didn't know she still had.

"He's right," she heard Otha murmur in quiet disbelief.

And then, the world went black.


	2. Part II: Merlin

**- o - Part II: Merlin - o -**

Merlin felt a lump in his throat as he watched Arthur fall to his knees beside the bed and grasp one of Gwen's limp hands in his own. The beautiful young queen lay unconscious, her skin deathly pale aside from the dark circles beneath her closed eyes and the bright red blood that was smeared across her thighs and swollen belly.

"Guinevere," Arthur begged piteously, his voice small and frightened as a single tear spilled down his cheek. "Don't leave me, please..."

It was a haunting sight; a grieving king prostrate on the floor beside a bloodstained bed that held the body of his beloved wife and unborn child. Choking back his own sorrow in an effort to be strong for his friends, Merlin suddenly realized how similar the scene must be to the tragedy that had happened decades before, on the night when Arthur himself had been born.

Had Gaius stood quietly by and allowed his king to weep when it had become clear that Queen Ygraine would not survive? Had he wanted to cry himself, feeling helpless to prevent the suffering of two people he'd loved so dearly? And most of all, had Uther ever truly forgiven his friend for being powerless to save Ygraine's life?

"There may yet be hope we can save the child," Otha murmured softly, treating Merlin with the utmost respect since his claim that the baby had been turned the wrong way had proven true. "If we can revive her, even for a few minutes, she may still have enough strength left to push out the infant now that it's positioned correctly."

"And what about her?" Arthur demanded, whirling around with eyes that were half mad with fury and grief as he gestured wildly at the bed. "What about Guinev...?" he choked off on a ragged sob.

"Sire, I'm sorry," the midwife said somberly, taking a step backward as if she were afraid Arthur might strike her. "She's lost too much blood already, and there's no way to staunch the flow. I'm afraid it's already too late for the queen."

Otha leaned over the small form with the distended belly as Arthur looked on helplessly, passing a bundle of pungent herbs beneath Gwen's nose. "My lady," she entreated softly. "I need you to wake up now. Your child needs you. Just a little more, and then you may rest as long as you like."

For a few endless minutes, Gwen lay so still that she might have been dead already, aside from the shallow rise and fall of her chest. And then, with a feeble moan of exhausted suffering, her eyes slowly opened, struggling in vain to focus on the faces around her. Her lips parted as if she wished to speak, but all that came out was a barely audible whimper as her body began to spasm in the throes of a powerful contraction.

"Quick, get behind her!" the midwife commanded Arthur, who was instantly spurred into motion by the urgency in her voice. "She doesn't have the strength to hold herself upright. Let her brace her back against your chest. Yes, that's it! Now push, my lady! I need you to push!"

Gwen's head fell heavily back against Arthur's shoulder, her leg muscles trembling violently as she let out a succession of tiny whimpers and weak grunts. Merlin stood beside the bed helplessly, watching the king cradle his dying wife in his arms as she struggled to present him with a child as her final act in life. Arthur wept shamelessly, his tears spilling onto her ashen face, even as he whispered words of love, encouragement and heart wrenching apology.

Otha knelt between Gwen's shaking knees, anxiously examining her opening again and again in the fervent hope that it wouldn't be too late to save at least one life.

_I should have acted sooner_, Merlin thought sorrowfully. _If I had just gone over to the bed, if I had only touched her earlier, I would have known. This might have all been prevented, if it weren't for me._

Another innocent life, lost through the misuse of magic. For it _was _magic that was at fault; Merlin had sensed its power the moment he'd lain his fingers upon the swollen belly and felt the dark shield that prevented unknowing hands from detecting any warning signs. Morgana? He could only assume so, bitterly realizing that she would have every reason to want to prevent the safe birth of a Pendragon heir.

What would Arthur do, if he found out the truth while he was mourning the death of his beloved queen? Morgana was known to be spiteful, and seemed only too glad to take the credit for any misery she caused in Arthur's life these days. When he knew, would he turn out just like Uther, hell bent on destroying anyone who dared to practice magic within the kingdom?

At the very least, Merlin knew any hope of the king ever accepting magic would die right along with Gwen. Even if he never learned the true cause of her death, Gwen was his faith, his hope, an anchor who kept him tied firmly to the ground. It was she who taught him to be a better man, taking him sternly in hand when he disappointed her on any matter relating to justice, goodness or mercy. No other person had the power to make Arthur stop and question his actions quite like she did.

What kind of king would he be without her?

The answer to that question seemed imminent, as Gwen fainted again and lay limply in Arthur's arms. The midwife anxiously muttered something about "getting closer, but not close enough," as she desperately prodded at the unconscious queen and begged her to wake up just one more time.

Gwen didn't stir as Arthur wrapped his arms more tightly around her swollen body, burying his face in her damp, tangled hair as his chest began to heave with violent, ragged sobs.

"Is she still alive?" Merlin whispered softly to the midwife.

She gave him a sad look. "Only just. It's too late now. Too late, for her, and for the child too, I'm afraid. The best we can hope for is that she might regain consciousness long enough to bid farewell to her husband, the poor man. But even that..." she trailed off and shook her head.

_This is Uther, Ygraine and Gaius all over again,_ Merlin realized, as grief stricken tears began to roll down his cheeks. _Nothing has changed, only this time, there won't even be a child to ease his father's suffering. Arthur will be left with nothing except a broken spirit that will never mend._

As if sensing his thoughts, Arthur raised his head and gazed up at Merlin with a tormented face full of hopeless desperation. Not even in his worst moments had Merlin ever seen such naked, helpless vulnerability in his eyes. They pleaded silently with him, begging him to do something, _anything_, to prevent the most heart wrenching loss Arthur would ever know in his lifetime.

Suddenly, Merlin saw just how much Arthur trusted him, needed him, relied upon him with his entire soul to make things right, even if he might not be consciously aware that he did. And so, after what seemed like a lifetime of deception, years upon years of carefully hiding the truth until the right time to reveal his secret might finally come, Merlin knew without a shadow of a doubt that _this _was the moment he'd been waiting for.

Calmly, he stepped closer to the bed and laid his hand upon Gwen's clammy forehead. "_Edníwe se blódsihte, edgief se sáwol, ácwice se ferhþ_," he whispered, deliberately meeting Arthur's incredulous stare as his eyes flashed a brilliant shade of gold. "_Áwace!"_

Arthur opened and closed his mouth in shock, but before he could manage to speak, the room filled with a loud, tormented cry. Gwen stirred violently in his arms, her whole body tensing as her eyes opened and she began to push more fiercely than she'd managed to do in hours. She screamed again and again, her voice growing ever stronger as she met and endured the relentless contractions that slammed through her straining, sweat drenched body.

"A-almost there!" announced the midwife uncertainly, as she stared at Merlin in bewilderment. "I can see the head! Come on, just one more push. You can do it!"

Gwen braced herself against Arthur's chest and bore down hard, her fingernails ripping bloody furrows into the skin of her naked thighs as she gave a mighty push, then a second and a third. Her savage cries of agony turned into a gasp of triumph as the infant slipped free from her body and into the midwife's waiting hands.

"A boy," Merlin whispered in wonder. "Arthur, you have a son."

The newborn infant chose the very same moment to open his mouth and let loose a succession of lusty, furious yells. Gwen laughed aloud, a sound of pleasure that no one had ever expected to hear from her lips again, as she eagerly reached for her tiny son. Arthur lowered her ever so gently to lie comfortably on the pillows, while Otha made quick work about cleaning the babe, then wrapped him in a blanket and placed him in his mother's waiting arms.

"He's beautiful," Gwen breathed, touching a finger to his tiny nose and tracing the lines of his soft, pink mouth. "Oh, he's perfect."

She gazed into the infant's unfocused blue eyes with an expression of adoration, seeming unaware of Arthur's presence as he pulled up a chair to sit beside the bed. The king looked upon them tenderly, his eyes full of love and pride as Gwen bonded with their newborn son for the very first time.

Some time later, when the young queen had been suitably tended to; bathed gently, dressed in a fresh nightgown and lowered back to rest among clean linens, her eyelids began to droop as the infant suckled sleepily at her breast. Beside them, Arthur had already fallen asleep, his head resting against the wall behind him with a small, contented smile upon his lips.

Merlin quietly opened the chamber door to let himself out, feeling a warm sense of happiness as he looked back one last time at the slumbering faces of the king and queen he loved so deeply, then gazed upon the newborn that promised a brighter future for them all. He smiled to himself in satisfaction, knowing beyond a shadow of a doubt that he'd done the right thing.

Merlin embraced the gift of life that had been given, knowing it had come from a devotion that was far stronger than a lifetime of secrecy or fear. In the moment he had stepped forward and uttered the spell, he'd only been thinking about Arthur and Gwen. Suddenly, he realized that it had been an act that promised a better life for countless others who suffered.

After Queen Ygraine's demise, people with magic had lived in torment, enduring relentless persecution as they were forced to conceal themselves from a ruler that sought to annihilate their very existence. Queen Guinevere's resurrection whispered of changing winds, foreshadowing a time when those with the gift might open their eyes and awaken to their former strength as she had done, pulled free from the clutches of an almost certain death.

This was the power that surrounded them all, Merlin realized, the eternal cycle of death and rebirth that had shaped the world since the beginning of time. Magic's punishment had found its root in the death of one queen, and it would be granted absolution through the life of another.

And thus, the great Pendragon legacy would come full circle, fighting its way out of darkness and despair to greet the brilliant promise of brand new day.


End file.
